


from the shadows of giants

by horchata



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horchata/pseuds/horchata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama has seen Hinata this quiet only a few times before, and that's what worries him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from the shadows of giants

**Author's Note:**

  * For [affectionateTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/affectionateTea/gifts).



> Written for Bonus Round 1 of SASO 2016, for the prompt: "Hinata finally gets to meet the Little Giant, but he isn't anything at all like he remembers of the volleyball player he saw on TV all those years ago."

Kageyama has seen Hinata this quiet only a few times before, and that's what worries him.

Hinata is never still, not really, but he's perched at the edge of the stage on Karasuno's practice court, lips smushed into his one raised knee, his other leg dangling down, barely twitching to kick his heel without any rhythm against the little raised wall. Next to him are the jerseys from yesterday, laid out neatly on the polished wood, #10 and #1. There's a volleyball resting against his hip, bento forgotten. His hands are holding his elbows, wrapped around his shin. He's quiet. 

Kageyama closes the open door to the gym behind himself. Hinata meets his eyes for only a second, but that's all Kageyama needs to see, to feel. Hinata's not past it yet. He pulls the heel of his court shoe up a bit more as he walks over to Hinata where he sits.

He touches the ace's jersey, pair to his own. "Is it too long for you or something?"

"Shut up," Hinata says, muffled. "Yama-kun wants me to have it."

"Of course he does," Kageyama says. "Yamaguchi's the captain. He wouldn't give it to you without meaning it."

"I know," Hinata says, fingers of one hand dipping to graze his #10 shirt. Kageyama frowns. 

"Don't hurt yourself trying to think a way out of this."

Hinata glares up at Kageyama, talks petulantly from behind his knee. "You're one to talk, Bakageyama."

"Dumbass."

"Shithead."

Kageyama hops onto the stage next to Hinata. He can't figure out what to do with his hands, so he picks up Hinata's volleyball, rests it in his lap. Smooths his fingers over the sides. Hinata goes back to staring into the floor. Kageyama looks down at the floor, too. 

Hinata is so quiet. Kageyama feels his own body tense with the urge to try to start some kind of bickering fight, or to challenge him, to yell and toss to Hinata until he forgets yesterday altogether, but. If that's what needed to happen, Kageyama would've done all that this morning at practice and be done with it. Instead, Hinata sits, thinks. Sometimes thinking is all that can happen. The lights hum above them while Kageyama waits and Hinata gently kicks the wall again and again and again.

"He was so angry," Hinata says, softly.

Kageyama hums. 'Angry.' Of course Hinata would put it so simply.

"He was _so_ angry." Hinata's voice gets louder as he lifts off his knee. "How can you be angry at volleyball?"

Kageyama looks over to Hinata. "You're angry at volleyball all the time."

Hinata's face contorts in offense. "I'm never angry at volleyball! Volleyball has done nothing to me! Ball is _life_ , Kageyama!"

They both pause to snicker a bit, but Hinata's smile dies first. Kageyama feels the worry in his sternum come back. "Eat your food at least," he says. "Lunch is almost over."

Hinata heaves a sigh and a glare at his bento. He pops it open and shoves some karaage into his mouth with his fingers, chewing while Kageyama spins the volleyball. "Did you already eat?"

"Yeah," Kageyama says. 

Hinata offers him a rice ball anyway. Kageyama takes it with a thanks. Hinata unfolds his legs, so now both of his heels knock nervous against the hollow wall. _Thud, thud, thud._

"Do you think... do you think he hates it so much because he couldn't go pro?"

Kageyama shrugs, swallowing. "Maybe."

"Maybe," Hinata agrees. 

Kageyama takes another bite. "I think his body betrayed him."

"Haa?" Hinata says through a mouthful of karaage. "What does that mean?"

Kageyama pops the rest of the rice ball in his mouth and bounces the ball on the ground once, twice. Tries to decide to say what he's going to say, despite the rice going dry in his mouth. His third hard bounce he catches. "I think it couldn't do what he wanted it to do. He trained to the edge of his limit."

Hinata tenses and Kageyama knows, knows it had been this the whole time. Stupid Hinata. _Stupid_ Hinata Shouyou. Knowing he's right makes it worse, almost. For a moment he's so frustrated with Hinata that he feels like dragging him out of this funk by his bright orange hair. Kageyama grips the ball extra tight and continues. "He trained and couldn't go further and so he started to hate it."

Hinata inhales deep and sharp through his nose and that's it, Kageyama knows _for sure_.

"Haven't we all trained hard these past years?"

"Yes," Hinata says.

"Haven't you trained with and without us? Snuck into other schools' camps _multiple times_ and trained our kouhais and never once hated this?"

The kicks on the wall stop. "Yes," Hinata says.

"Didn't you hear everyone talk about us as if we could only work with each other, and then didn't you work hard to spike Inokuma-kun's tosses just as well as you do mine?"

"Yes."

"And did you hate this then?" Kageyama stands up, unable to sit on the stage anymore. He feels hot with the need to get everything out. He stands in front of Hinata, pokes a finger hard into his chest. "Didn't you swear to beat me someday?" 

Hinata pops up to his feet immediately. "I said I would! We're rivals!"

"Oh? And what if I surpass you?"

"Then I'll just get even better!"

"And beyond university?"

"I'll beat you there, too!"

"And what if you can't?"

Hinata freezes. Kageyama steps forward.

"What if you can't, eh?"

Hinata's lips press tightly together. To his horror, Kageyama starts to see Hinata's eyes shine too bright, his cheeks pink. How can he think this? 

He snatches the front of Hinata's shirt. "Would you hate it then?"

Hinata looks down at the court, shoulders hunching, fists clenched tight with the effort not to cry. 

"Would you hate it then?!" Kageyama yells, shaking him.

"No," Hinata says.

"Huh?"

"No!" Hinata shouts. His eyes close and he scrubs the tears away, clearly embarrassed. But Kageyama has seen Hinata cry before, and Hinata's seen him cry, too. Tears are nothing between them. This is something else.

Kageyama lets go of Hinata's collar and grabs the side of his head, clenching fingers tight around Hinata's ear, his temple, the curve at the bottom of his skull to get this _through_ , deep to his brain. 

"You won't hate this, Hinata! That won't be you! You share a position and -- and right now a number, but not a future."

Hinata leans against Kageyama's palm, searches Kageyama's face, but there's no doubt to find. Kageyama knows this deep in his bones. Hinata couldn't become that, not in a thousand lifetimes. Hinata loved the game beyond his team's ability to win, beyond his own ability to play -- although of course he wanted to play and win and fight. Hinata loved volleyball the way Kageyama loved volleyball, like something burning bright in his eyes. 

Kageyama thinks of Kitagawa Daiichi and Oikawa-san and Aobajousai; thinks of how hard he has worked with Inokuma-kun to be able to take his place as setter not just next year after graduation but to be good enough to do it in games right now, how he has given Inokuma-kun every bit of what he knows how to teach; of how he no longer assumes what his teammates need, but asks instead.

"'Little Giant' is a title, not a destiny," Kageyama says, straightening, hand dropping to Hinata's shoulder. "You can take it or leave it."

The gym is still as Hinata keeps staring at Kageyama. Kageyama feels himself start to tense again -- Hinata never seems to need to blink in these moments, and Kageyama never feels he can blink or breathe in these moments, either -- but then just like that, it passes. Hinata exhales. Hinata reaches out for his volleyball, and Kageyama hands it to him. He knows somehow that this is over.

The bell for the end of lunch sings softly in the distance. Hinata walks over to his half-eaten bento and clicks it closed, wraps it in the soft, worn black of the #10 jersey, and shoves it in his bag. He carefully folds the #1 jersey and holds it, with the volleyball, close to his heart.

Hinata grins. "Race you back to class, Kageyama-kun."

"Oi! _OI!_ No false starts, dumbass!"

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr/twitter @ spirographeme! Most likely I'll be yelling about the volleyballs there, too.


End file.
